


Silence

by Harukami



Category: Clover
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-11
Updated: 2011-10-11
Packaged: 2017-10-24 12:26:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/263450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harukami/pseuds/Harukami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ran feels Oruha die, and sees the aftermath first hand, but he too knows that he is waiting to die. Hope terrifies him.</p><p>Originally posted to LJ on July 2, 2009</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silence

_bang_

It tore apart her song, that gunshot. Ran didn't hear it -- not literally, not like he'd heard her before through the distant connections of electronic lines, because he was home alone. He'd heard her shows live when Gingetsu had been talking on the audiophone to Kazuhiko, because Kazuhiko wouldn't miss one of her shows if he could possibly avoid it. He'd heard her shows live when Gingetsu, listening to her love songs, had called Ran's videophone. Ironic. Ironic. Yet Gingetsu was on assignment and so he had no link to the outside world and didn't mind; she was beautiful and she was happy but he didn't need it.

But he knew when she died.

He knew the moment the shot fired, knew the moment the bullet burrowed through her flesh, knew that it killed her instantly. Because they'd met, he knew. Because she was a one-leaf and he was a three-leaf, he knew where she was and where she wasn't.

And she was, and she wasn't. It left a silence where his distant tracking of her identity had been. It left a silence filled with pain. Not his, exactly. Not exactly not. The pain he knew would be in Kazuhiko. The pain he knew would be in Gingetsu. His regret. She lived freely. She had happiness.

Nothing lived forever.

> "I heard from Kazuhiko."
> 
> "I'm sorry."
> 
> "I can't ship home yet."
> 
> "I know. It's fine."
> 
> "Will you take care of Kazuhiko for me?"
> 
> "I can't take care of anyone. I'll try."
> 
> "...Thanks."
> 
> "He'd never expect you to ask that of anyone."
> 
> "I never would."
> 
> "Yeah."

Kazuhiko came over the way Gingetsu predicted. He hadn't been drinking; he wasn't a drinker. But he was drunk with grief regardless, mad with grief. Aside from his brother, Ran had never had any empathic skills, but he didn't need them to look at Kazuhiko and see the sucking wound that Oruha had left behind with her absence. There was nothing there; not the beautiful song, not the beautiful love, not the beautiful happiness. He was miserable. He was thrown off balance without her there, with his centre a missing balance. Ran took his coat.

"Oruha died," Kazuhiko said.

 _I know_ , Ran didn't say, let the silence go on a moment too long. "I'm sorry," he finally offered up. "I know how you felt about her."

"Gingetsu too," Kazuhiko said. "He was in love with her too."

Ran thought, _he's aiming it to hurt_ , but he wasn't sure it would have even if he hadn't known that it was said because of pain. He knew Gingetsu, knew Gingetsu's view of Kazuhiko, and had his own opinions on why Gingetsu would flirt so with Oruha. Well, even if it was love, that was fine. Love was a terrible thing, a wonderful thing, and Gingetsu had not been the first person he had loved, even if he would be his last. Ran said, "I know all three of you were close. I'm sorry. You know he'll come back the moment he is allowed."

Kazuhiko lowered his head. Ran couldn't tell if he was crying or not.

"Here," Ran said. "Stay the night. You can stay in Gingetsu's room tonight."

"You don't stay in the same room?"

"I have my own room," Ran said.

Voice thick with pain, Kazuhiko said, "I thought you two were lovers. Like me and Oruha."

"Surely nobody was like you and Oruha," Ran said, gently. "Here. You need to get clean. Get a normal routine again. Take a bath -- I'll make dinner. Then you can sleep. The bathroom's this way."

> "She was an amazing woman."
> 
> "I know."
> 
> "So happy. So beautiful. It was like she lived every day as if it were her last."
> 
> "No. She didn't."
> 
> "Ah?"
> 
> "I don't think so. Not as if it were her last. But like she had only so long. So she crammed her living into every day."
> 
> "Not the same thing?"
> 
> "No."
> 
> "You know what it's like, don't you?"
> 
> "It's not like you to ask questions like that, Gingetsu."
> 
> "Do you mind?"
> 
> "It's fine. You don't need to ask me if you want to ask anything of me."
> 
> "Well, never mind."

Two days later, Gingetsu came home. He was grieving, but bore it stoically. Kazuhiko had gone home a day earlier. Ran told him as much at the door.

Gingetsu nodded. "I'll see him tomorrow. We probably have much to discuss."

"Probably."

Ran had kept the radiograph off. He knew they would be playing her songs all this time; it wasn't a bad thing, but he wants some separation of it. She died in music, and perhaps she would hate that moment of silence. But he never saw her sing. He had heard her, but when he had seen her, when Kazuhiko had brought her, her happiness had lain in Kazuhiko. Ran thought about that a lot over those few days. And for now he kept the radio off. It could be turned back on if Gingetsu wanted it.

Gingetsu was moving around the house as if checking things. Ran followed, and was unable to keep himself from talking. "Did your assignment go well?"

"It's done now."

"Ah," Ran said.

"How is Kazuhiko?"

"He loved her." As if it explained everything. It did.

Gingetsu nodded.

"He believes you loved her too."

"She was an amazing woman," Gingetsu repeated.

"I know. He also believes we're lovers. He compared us."

Gingetsu stopped at that, looking back at Ran cautiously. They were by a big hall window, and Ran turned from Gingetsu's gaze, looked out over the city. "Are we?" Gingetsu asked.

"Like them? Nobody was like them. Nobody will be like them."

"Lovers."

Ran stayed silent at that for a long few moments. It wasn't a question Gingetsu couldn't answer himself. But he hesitated regardless over the dual meaning of the word. "Technically, no."

"Technically," Gingetsu said.

Ran didn't ask the question.

Gingetsu did, though. "Do you want to be?"

Fingers curling against the glass, Ran said, "It's not for me. Pleasures. Happiness. It's not for me."

"Hope terrifies you."

"No," Ran said.

Gingetsu was silent a long moment. He didn't push. But he said, "Where you go, I will go."

 _bang_

Suddenly everything was noise inside Ran, clamoring. He tried to damp it down. Too much emotion terrified him. A would feel it. If the Wizards knew they would want to quell it. But everything was noise. He was hearing his own heartbeat, he was hearing Gingetsu's last words to him and he was hearing a ringing sound, a musical high sound like taut wires trembling. He knew what Gingetsu meant. He's always known the fact. The meaning was different than the fact.

The meaning was different.

He turned away from the window to Gingetsu.

> "Does it hurt?"
> 
> "I don't really feel pain anymore."
> 
> "That's a lie. You feel it as much as anyone else."
> 
> "Not like anyone else. It's not like that."
> 
> "Really?"
> 
> " _Ah._ "
> 
> "Was that pain?"
> 
> "No. No. It wasn't pain."


End file.
